


Final Flight

by ScooterThyme



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Wings, flipping dear old dad the grandest of birds, updated with artwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooterThyme/pseuds/ScooterThyme
Summary: Lucifer takes his wings out for one last spin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Updated 4/19/17: Artwork by the *incredibly* talented Johannes VIII.

He hadn’t done it immediately upon arriving to earth, oh no. He wasn’t _stupid_. Spiteful, yes. Spontaneous, absolutely. But he had wanted to make sure he was comfortable in his new surroundings before doing anything quite so drastic.

He thought about it often, once the idea presented itself. Sometimes he would mull it over in his mind after a particularly satisfying romp, while his bed partners were exhausted and recuperating, and he lay awake staring at the ceiling. He’d imagine how different it might be to feel the wind only in his hair while joyriding his convertible, by default rather than choice. On the occasional bad day (not that there were many), he’d give thought to having an audience--a very specific group of souls--merely for the shock value he knew damn well such an act would elicit.

One rare morning when Lucifer woke alone, he threw caution to the wind. He got up early, informed Mazikeen he would be gone for the day, and took off for a drive to clear his mind. When he came back late after the sun had set, he called out to her.

“Maze--see that I’m not disturbed this evening.”

Alone in his penthouse, he made the decision. One last flight. He walked over to the balcony, tossed his suit jacket onto a chair, and spread his wings. He stretched them to full height, and with a powerful downstroke, took off into the air.

Lucifer casually soared around the second City of Angels that he’d ever called home, taking in the sights one last time. A few hours later, he’d perched at the very top of the building he now lived in. It wasn’t much higher than his penthouse level, but still offered a slightly different perspective than what he was used to. His wings hung loosely behind him, a few feathers ruffling with the breeze. He knew he’d already made up his mind earlier in the day--now, he was completely embracing it. Lucifer stood up. His wings spread out to full width, and he lazily spiraled down the building back to his balcony, landing lightly on his feet. He shook them to dispel some of nervous energy through the feathers, but did not fold them in completely.

Lucifer called down to the bar’s phone, telling Maze to meet him and bring her blades to the beach-- _the_ beach--whenever she was finished at Lux for the night. Somehow, not knowing her exact timing was comforting. It felt slightly more chaotic that way.

Mazikeen’s face paled when he explained his request to her. He made sure she understood that no matter what happened once she started, she was to finish the job. He reached out to prick his finger on one of her demon blades.

“I trust you, you know that. But I have to ask… are you _completely_ sure about this?”

“Completely.”

“Alright.”

Maze took a deep breath, and brought one of her blades down onto the back of Lucifer’s shoulder. With very little resistance, the right wing came off. The cut was clean, with little blood, but severing so much divinity from its host still caused a nasty wound. Lucifer screamed out in agony, and Maze winced at her lord’s pain. Wasting no time, she braced him with a steady hand, and cut the left wing off.

Lucifer slumped forward, the demon barely able to catch him before he face planted into the sand. Once she made sure he was still actually conscious, Maze ripped off a piece of cloth from her dress, pressing it into the fresh wounds on his back.

When his breathing seemed more stable, Maze carefully brought Lucifer back to his penthouse bed, and knelt in front of him on the floor. He held out a trembling arm, resting his hand on her shoulder. Looking her straight in the eyes, he murmured a weak, “Thank you,” before squinting in pain.

Maze put a hand on his cheek, and whispered, “You know I’m here.”

Lucifer nodded, and the demon turned and left the room. The Devil sat for a few minutes more, calming himself, before gingerly laying face-down on the bed.

Just before he lost consciousness, the ghost of a chuckle left his throat, whispering, “Your move, _dad_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't quite go in the direction I had planned for it to, but it didn't veer too far off course. I started this a while ago and just left it, so I figured I better get it out here before I lost it completely.


End file.
